Once upon a time a poet was seen
wandering around a heath
He had nothing but a note book and a pencil in his hand
There was no one else there but him.
No sound, no noise, no whisper...
He walked Contemplating philosophical thoughts of mortality,
Birth,
Nothingness,
Cunning,
The meaning of things
, Nothingness again,
Death.
Than all of a sudden,
appeared a flock of colorful birds chirping,
chirping...
Flying and chirping
Singing ghazals, melodious ancient songs.
Though he didn't speak their language
He was fascinated by the birds
And understood their songs
He quickly in a furious and ferocious hurry
Started to jot down their songs in the note book
Fearing they will fly away
As fast and as suddenly as they came...
These are the lyrics the birds sang
Fom the dead poet's notebook.
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